


Every Little Bit (Helps The Fire Burn)

by loveinamaltshop



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: (very briefly mentioned) - Freeform, Again, Awkwardness, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 17:04:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinamaltshop/pseuds/loveinamaltshop
Summary: The thing is, Patrick doesn’t know where he fits in all of this.In this case, it’s literally.





	Every Little Bit (Helps The Fire Burn)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [punkpete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkpete/gifts).



> Happy birthday to one of my loveliest friends, [punkpete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkpete/works)/@gothfob! This was inspired by her Gabe/Pete/Patrick fic, "[you know i got a heart of gold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15936884/chapters/37161572)," which obviously, if you enjoyed this, you should check it out, NO QUESTION.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> Title is from The Front Bottoms' "Everyone But You."

The thing is, Patrick doesn’t know where he fits in all of this.

In this case, it’s literally. 

Gabe and Pete had invited him over for to watch  _ The Fast and The Furious _ out of order because one, they’re chaotic as fuck and that’s the only reason anyone would be compelled to do such a thing and two, it’s the first time they’ve hung out since, well -- 

_ Pete’s hand is reaching in between Patrick, who moans at the relief in the form of Pete’s steel-rough fingers over his thick cock. He’s on all fours, a pair of hands in his hair, one on the flesh of his ass and the other --  _ yes,  _ stroking over his dick. It’s heaven by another name. _

_ Gabe thrusts into his mouth involuntarily, seeming over the vibrations his mouth had provided.  _

_ “Fuck,” Gabe laugh-gasps, eyes dark when they cast over Patrick’s, hidden under golden eyelashes clumped by sweat. “You weren’t wrong, he really does have a mouth on him, huh?” _

_ Patrick would smile, but cock in his mouth and Pete doing very unfair, too slow things with his own cock, while his very own is being pumped roughly.  _

_ It’s a wonderful situation for all penises involved.  _

And it was. And it’s a situation Patrick would love to get into again in the near future, definitely within ten minutes or something. He didn’t trim his pubes for  _ nothing,  _ right?

But there was the whole conversation situation after, with Pete’s hand in Gabe’s, and one hand on his thigh and the other pushing damp bangs back -- lots of hands and talking for a fucked-out Patrick. 

He’s a good listener, okay! He is. He remembers Pete’s earnest eyes and Gabe’s encouraging ones. 

They want him, to  _ be _ with them. As a part of them, more than sex. Dinners and walks in parks. 

So he finds himself here, in Pete’s ridiculous living room, with the tasteful decor but he wishes the same could be said for the art. 

“Patrick,” Pete says, slowly, like he’s a child.

Seriously, it’s like this guy was trying to be Jackson Pollock, but the splatters looked too deliberate. Patrick strokes over his chin, stance too stiff, as he assesses the painting over the TV. It looked like a Motel 6 they stayed in the early days, even  _ without  _ the blacklight. Gross excrement-resembling displays of quote-unquote “artistic expression” that Pete probably bought off some Fine Arts major for thirty bucks because he felt bad--

“Patrick,” comes Gabe’s voice now, one he’s a little more unfamiliar with, and it makes him turn. 

On the pull-out couch, is a mess of comforters and wool blankets and seemingly, every pillow from Pete’s  _ and  _ Gabe’s house. It looks awfully comfy, and Patrick’s been in the studio the whole day.

“Uh, yeah?” he says, feigning distracted, and he’s back to his old problem.

He doesn’t know where to fit into this. In every connotation of the word. 

Gabe and Pete are snuggled in one of the corners, filling in every definition of a  _ love nest  _ with the distinguishable sound of a Dorito between teeth every now and then. 

Does he sit beside them? He is a guest after all. Does he go for the armchair beside the couch? Yes, a much safer option. He needs a good five minutes to decide, and hopefully Gabe and Pete have no concept of time.

Does he sit on Pete’s lap?! 

“Let’s get on with it,” Pete demands with a playful tone, swaying side to side. “My engines are  _ revved,  _ Patrick.” He grins. “You get it?”

There  _ is  _ the option of the kitchen, where he can help himself to goldfish crackers and beer. 

Gabe frowns slightly. “I don’t think he gets it,” he murmurs quietly. 

“I get it,” Patrick half-snaps. 

Jesus, is he  _ sweating? _

He feels the drop slide down his heated cheek. It’s 6pm on an October day -- he has no excuses. 

“Hey, man, are you okay?” Gabe says gently. “You’ve been pretty, like, strung up this whole time.”

“I’m good,” Patrick says in -- hey, an octave he didn’t know he could hit, that’s neat, but lets out a huge breath.  _ “Ohmygod,  _ no I’m not.”

Gabe and Pete look at each other, then back at Patrick. 

“I, uh,” Patrick starts, and certainly doesn’t sound like himself when he was fifteen trying to ask out the pretty girl in his algebra class to homecoming. “Where do I go?”

“Here, silly,” Pete frowns.

Patrick approaches, sock to carpet, quiet and unassuming, away from the Not-Pollock. He lands on the foot of the pull-out, and has to say, it’s a pretty luxurious piece of furniture with how plush it is but did he expect less from Pete? 

“Patrick?” 

And Patrick knows that voice. It’s Pete’s  _ hey bestie, we totally need to talk.  _

“You mind telling us what’s up?”

“I, uh,” Patrick clears his throat before he turns on his ass, faces them like a man. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Gabe and Pete nod, in-sync from hours spent with one another, and Patrick would laugh if his chest wasn’t so tight.

“I’ve never been in this kind of relationship before,” Patrick admits. “And I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you guys would be serious about you know, actually being…uh. In a throuple?”

“We’d like to call it more of a triad.” Gabe smiles. It throws Patrick off a bit, but he feels his shoulders relax a little.

“Uh, sure,” Patrick breathes, eyes ping-ponging between his best friend and his best friend’s boyfriend, who he supposes are his boyfriends now? Was that right? Is that even what Pete asked in the litany of  _ you are the love of mine that transcends dimensions we’ve never heard of  _ and  _ the shell of my heart breaking into the new day _ as his boyfriend smiled on?

Pete nods at him to continue. He hasn’t said a word. 

“I just, you know. I like you guys. Hell, I  _ love  _ you guys and it’s--it’s crazy to me you want me in on this. And that it won’t be a sex thing.” Patrick inhales sharply before going on. “Like, where do I even--”

“Where do you fit in all this?” Pete says, smirking, because fuck their unspoken telepathy. 

“Yeah!” Patrick exclaims, running a hand over his forehead. His heart rate could be a little slower, but he seems to be doing fine. “I don’t want to be, you know, the stranger. That one weirdo that tags along these sexy rock stars--”

“Unfair point, you’re a sexy rock star,” Gabe interjects, raising a finger.

Pete nods. “Seconded.”

Patrick rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. I’m...I wasn’t here. ”

“Do you want to be here?” Gabe asks, and Patrick will admit he’s never heard him sound so serious. Never at work or in the studio or at Decaydance meetings. 

“What?” Patrick widens his eyes. “Well, yeah.” In a moment of peak regression, he tacks on a  _ “Duh.” _

“Cool,” Gabe nods once. “Because we want you to be here too, man.” 

Patrick doesn’t say anything.

“Can I say something too? Like very cool and succinctly put, babe, but my turn,” Pete clears his throat, repositions himself where he is between Gabe’s legs and under a worn-looking Batman blanket. “I get that you’re scared, Patrick. It’s a whole new territory. Like, it is for us too. We’ve never had a third person.”

Patrick cocks his head.  _ But? _

“But,” Pete continues. “You’re like my best friend, and I’m totally hot for you. And Gabe is hot for you--”

“You really think I grab your ass while you’re on the soundboard as a joke?” 

Patrick makes a face, but stifles a laugh. “Arguably workplace harassment. Go on, Pete.”

“And who doesn’t go on all fours as the base of our Eiffel Tower if you weren’t hot for us?” Pete says with a jut of his chin. “Huh, Patrick? I want you to be with us. Like, scratch that. I want there to be an  _ us.  _ You, me, and Gabe. To actually be together and love each other and write love songs and have each other’s phone numbers on clothing. Last time wasn’t just sex for us.”

“Think initiation,” Gabe says teasingly.

Pete snorts, but plays up a horrified face.  _ “So  _ not an initiation. Patrick, don’t listen to him. You’ll get sick of him easier.” He shakes his head. “Seriously, Patrick, if this is you thinking you’re not good enough, I’m going to kick you upside the head with the same things I’ve been telling you since you were sixteen.”

Patrick swallows and shrugs. “I’m just. I’m figuring it out.”

“So are we.” Pete gives him a raised eyebrow, questioning.

There’s a silence as Patrick picks at the button on the couch. It’s a really nice fucking couch and he definitely needs one for his own place.

“So what you’re saying is that like,” Patrick says, bracing himself for how absolutely  _ stupid  _ he’s about to sound. “You want me...there.” He gestures to the corner of the couch. “And not...here.”

“Yes,” they say, in eerie, exasperated unison.

“Patrick,” Pete sighs out. “Literal light of my life and extra-literal fire of my loins, would you like to join our love nest?”

“Yeah, c’mere, boss,” Gabe sing-songs, an age-old nickname for Patrick, before pausing. “Hold on. Baby? Fuck, do I gotta call you that in front of all the label guys now?” He grins. “Can’t believe I’m the office whore now. I’m dating  _ both _ of my bosses.”

There’s something about the way Gabe calls him the pet name that causes a laugh to bubble out of his chest, and the way Pete is holding his arms out, fingers curling in and out in a  _ “gimme”  _ motion, that makes him shake his head fondly and crawl towards the two.

“We want you here, okay?” Pete breathes into his ear once he’s crawled under a thick comforter and between Pete’s legs and arms. Gabe is stroking Patrick’s neck with two fingers, making him shiver flush against Pete. “God, we want you here.” 

“I want you, too,” Patrick declares to the screen, not needing to turn around to see matching smiles.

“I’m glad we talked that out,” Pete kisses his hair, then his thankfully now not-sweaty temple.

"Considering, I guess--"

"That there's a lot to talk about? Yeah." Another kiss on the top of his head. "We've got time."

Pete is reaching over the remote for the DVD player on the side table when Gabe pipes up.

“Okay, elephant in the room?” he declares. “No one said it was  _ not  _ a sex thing, alright? We’re still doing that. Like  _ immediately  _ after this.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments bring me light and joy. Hit me up on [tumblr](https://loveinamaltshop.tumblr.com/) as well!


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